Than Never to Have Loved at All
by Choice
Summary: Follows the story Puck's Five Ways to Being Gay. It's times like these Kurt remembers why he and Mercedes are so much more than best friends. Kurt and Mercedes-centric.


**Than Never to Have Loved at All**

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Title: Alfred Lord Tennyson, "In Memoriam: 27" (excerpt): _I hold it true, whate'er befall; / I feel it, when I sorrow most; / 'Tis better to have loved and lost / Than never to have loved at all._  
A very late post, but I made it for the second day of the challenge! I was very unsure where to take the story (from Puck's Five Ways to Being Gay), and while I regret not making Puck/Kurt the main focus of this drabblet (because that was the focus of my challenge!), I felt like this was a necessary piece to the story.  
More tomorrow, my loves! Enjoy!

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When Kurt says _No_, he doesn't mean "No Puck, I don't want to hang out with you sometime-_anytime_ because I don't like you." He doesn't even mean to say "No," not really. Not even subliminally. Not at all.

It's just-well, there's a little more to it than "No."

"No" is being afraid to fall; it's not wanting to offer his heart on a silver platter to someone who may have very well been a bloodthirsty beast in a past life; it's holding his breath in hopes that maybe Puck _has_ actually turned over a new leaf, but worrying that he'll never get that exhale of relief.

"No" is more of a protection than anything else. Kurt wishes he could stick a microphone jack into his temple just to explain it in all its vivid, black-and-white insecurity to Puck… especially when "No" also means Puck looks ready to simultaneously kill a puppy and cry. (A very small part of Kurt's brain that isn't panicking and/or berating himself absently thinks Puck may be the only one to pull off murderous and vulnerable at the same time.)

"Fine," Puck says. Just… "Fine."

_Fine_ is the very antithesis of this scenario, Kurt thinks.

And with that said, the boy does an about-face and strides down the hall, looking fiercer than Tyra Banks strutting her stuff down the runway and more righteous and ready for a fight than Athena herself.

Kurt helplessly looks on, watching as the seas of students and teachers alike part for Puck. He waits for the other boy to display his badass masculinity, maybe shove a defenseless kid into the lockers or push Artie's wheelchair into the rows of gaping pinheads. He doesn't put it past Puck to invent something as disturbing as human bowling, if only because they could write _volumes_ on how Puck revolutionized the bullying world.

Puck does nothing of the violent sort, and Kurt thinks maybe it's because he's on parole. How else can he explain away this uncharacteristic behavior? (He can think of a few, but he's too pessimistic to even voice them, let alone consider them for even a moment.)

He watches the hallway long after Puck has turned the corner, and it's sort of alarming how caught up he is in his own toils and woes that he totally forgot he had an audience to all of this.

Mercedes grabs him by the shoulder and shakes him like she's been trying to get his attention for a while. 'Cedes never was a force to be ignored, and that's one reason why Kurt loves/hates his girl.

She glares at him like _he's_ a ruthless, blood-spattered murderer, and Kurt feels slight offense amongst all the murky, thick emotions he's wallowing in right now. "Boy, what the _hell_ is the matter with you?"

Kurt frowns and attempts to subtly shake her hand off of his shoulder, because hel_lo_, wrinkles are one of his many kryptonites (right up there with boxed chocolate pudding and stirrup pants) and she _knows_ it.

"Puck goes and offers you his heart, and you just crush his hopes like that?" she asks. "Baby, I don't know if you even gave it any _thought_ before you turned that boy down."

Kurt sighs tiredly, resigning himself to the fact that he'll have to head out to his car for the spray-on wrinkle remover before homeroom. He just spent all weekend fretting over heart-healthy menus for the next few months, and he doesn't _need_ this. "Mercedes, what are you saying?"

"What I'm saying," she says, all somber and totally un-Mercedes-like, "Is you messed up-big time."

She steps back and lets him absorb all of that, which-really? She's defending _Puck_ instead of her own best friend? It's selfish and childish of him, but Kurt is just so _confused_ right now.

"I can't tell you what to do, Kurt, but I hope you'll at least reconsider shooting homeboy down before you even let him explain his sudden gaypiphany."

"I think you're hanging out with Rachel too much, 'Cedes," he jokes weakly. "Gaypiphany?_Really?_"

Mercedes reaches forward and tenderly brushes his shoulder with a soft smile. It does little to erase those wrinkles she caused, but Kurt smiles back anyway. "Don't let yourself get in the way of something that could be once-in-a-lifetime amazing, Kurt."

"But what if it _isn't?_" he asks, and he feels childish in an entirely different, small and weak sort of way. "What if I just get hurt? What then?"

"Then you deal with it," Mercedes says, like it's the most reasonable thing. Like possible heartbreak is nothing at all. Her smile turns wistful and it's then that he realizes that if anyone is justified in preaching about moving on, it's her. She's the poster child of moving on, all beautiful forgiveness and selflessness. She is his very best friend, despite the fact that he involuntarily led her on and let her hope and dream and want.

She forced herself to face her unrequited love as the fool's gold it was, and what always makes Kurt's mind boggle is how she turned her romantic love into the love that Kurt can reciprocate. She's a saint-_his_ saint, and if he believes in anything or anyone at all, it's his girl Mercedes.

"I don't want to wind myself up for happily ever after," Kurt argues, but it's weak and they both know it.

"So don't," Mercedes shrugs. "Just go with it, see what happens. And if things fall through…"

"We've got Netflix and our two favorite men to fall back on," Kurt finishes with a smile.

"Ben and Jerry all the way, baby," she grins.

He's overwhelmed with such intense love that he has to reach out and pull her to his chest and while he hardly ever initiates hugs she doesn't make a peep, just sighs and wraps her arms around him in turn.

"You'll be alright," she murmurs reassuringly, "No matter what."

And just like that, he's not so afraid anymore.


End file.
